


Valley of Dying Stars

by Deadlyflames



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anna is a ball of sunshine, F/M, pitch is just trying to be scary, pitchanna, some phantom of the opera references to be found
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-04-06 07:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadlyflames/pseuds/Deadlyflames
Summary: The king of nightmares lurks under the princess's bed. He moves through the shadows like a ghost, a creature of mystery and terror. In her desire for companionship, Anna follows him into the dark. She is unaware of how her brightness burns him to the touch.





	1. Eyes I Dare Not Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Eyes I dare not meet in dreams  
> In death's dream kingdom  
> These do not appear:  
> There, the eyes are  
> Sunlight on a broken column  
> There, is a tree swinging  
> And voices are  
> In the wind's singing  
> More distant and more solemn  
> Than a fading star.” 
> 
> T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

It was a bitterly cold winter day. The kind that hid the sun behind thick grey clouds, and kept the kingdom in darkness. The heavy snowfall blinded all those unfortunate enough to be walking through the blizzard. The wind blew so hard, it could knock a grown man off his feet. 

There was no going outside to play or build a snowman on a day like that. The king and queen were incredibly busy organizing an impending trade with a far off kingdom, and Princess Elsa still wouldn't come out of her room, the younger sister Anna had to find a way to entertain herself. That was why she wandered the vast isles of the castle's dusty library. Before Elsa had moved to a different room, Anna had never went there. She always let Elsa get the books and have her read the fun ones out loud. Now, the little princess had to read on her own. She had to do a lot of things on her own. 

Anna skipped from bookcase to bookcase, trying to find a book she hadn't already read. She would only ever read the fairytales, the ones filled with bright illustrations and words she could actually understand. As she skimmed over the titles, she hummed a bouncy tune to herself. One that had her toes tapping on the the floor. Her humming was cut off by a harsh 'shush' from the other side of the library, that immediately stilled her actions. The old librarian was the only other person in the room with her. He didn't really like the fact that Anna had taken to perusing the bookshelves for the past few months. 

Anna did her best to keep quiet after that, she really didn't want to upset him again, but her control slipped when she let out a delighted gasp. A book labeled 'The Golden Mermaid' was propped up on the shelf opposite to her. She loved mermaids, ever since Elsa had told her about them when she was three. 

In her excitement to grab the book, which held her rapt attention, Anna failed to notice the large table that stood between her and the shelf. When her clumsy limbs rammed into the table leg, the entire surface rattled at the force. The piles of books, that had been stacked upon the table top, came crashing down. Loose papers flew everywhere and Anna fell to the floor with a thump. 

She winced when she heard the rushed footsteps and heavy breathing of old Vendel. Her father had told her that the old librarian had been working in the castle library since before he was born. Which, Anna imagined, must have made him very old. That made a lot of sense, because he looked over a hundred to her. He was a skinny man, with long thin arms and a sallow face that made him look sickly. Heavy wrinkles sagged his skin, and the top of his head was bald and dotted with age spots. The crotchety man walked with a low hunch in his shoulders, causing his straggly white beard to hang past his hobbling knees. 

As the old man hobbled towards her, he beheld the mess she made with a deep frown on his lips. His sapphire eyes looked unnaturally big while he wore those thick spectacles. 

"Princess Anna!" he bellowed, but in his age, his voice lacked the strength to be intimidating. "What did I tell you about being careful in my library?!" 

Anna scrambled to pick up all the books and put them back on the table. "Sorry Vendel," she puffed as she ran around the table and shoved one big book after the other onto the surface in a messy pile. "It was an accident."

She went to go pick up the loose pages, which had scattered much further than the books. However, even in her desperation to fix her mistake, old Vendel wouldn't stop in his tirade. 

"You need to learn not to trip over your own feet, you clumsy child," he raved, straightening out the books she had so thoughtlessly dumped onto the table. "It's the flippant little girls like you who get taken by the Busemann."

Anna slowed her steps as she approached him with all the gathered papers. He swiped them from her hands with with an incoherent grumble. The little princess was far too focused on the previous statement to care what the librarian was saying then. Her eyes widened with interest. 

"What's the Busemann?" she asked, half in fear and half in fascination.

When the old man looked at her then, his frown was replaced by a twisted grin. The glass lenses of his spectacles seemed gleam in the dimly lit room. 

"Never heard of the Busemann, eh?" he asked, his voice was quieter now, and somehow that made it more frightening. "Well, no wonder you're so careless, little princess."

She gripped the edge of the table as she leaned towards the old librarian. "Who is he?"

"He's an ancient being who lives in an old cabin out in the woods," the librarian said, his eyes trailing back to the papers in his hands. He his voice was soft and casual when he spoke but his words were anything but. "He looks like a man, only he's as pale as a ghost and is dressed all in black. He has long deadly claws, black as night and sharp as daggers, and four rows of pointed teeth that are like needles. He wanders the mountains in the day, but at night he comes down to the villages of Arendelle," he leaned in closer and his voice lowered to a whisper. Anna had to shuffle forward so she could hear him better. "He looks in through all the windows, searching for naughty children. And when he finds one, he hides beneath their bed and then he drags them down under," Anna jumped and let out a startled squeak as Vendel hissed the word 'drags'. She shivered as his lips twisted into a sickening grin. "He puts them in a sack and takes them back to his old beaten shack and locks them in his basement. And once the children's screams have gone hoarse and they have used up all their tears, he'll rip their skin from their bones and eat it."

Anna gasped as the eccentric man snapped his teeth like he was the Busemann biting into the children's skin. His grin vanished as he tidied up the scattered books so they were once again gathered into two orderly stacks atop the table.

"Let's just hope the Busemann wasn't looking through the window when you so carelessly ran into my table, little princess," he grumbled and then hobbled back behind the tall bookshelves where he had previously been before coming out to scold her. 

Anna didn't have the courage to glance towards one of the library's windows and check if the Busemann was indeed watching her. She never wanted to see the pointed teeth and long black claws Vendel had described. The young princess was quick to scurry over to grab the book she had been coveting and then flee the library. 

Anna had managed to banish the words of the old librarian from her mind as she lost herself in a story about kings, princes, and golden mermaids. Soon, the frightful story was put to rest in the background of her thoughts as she went about her usual day. It was only when nightfall came, and she was sent off to bed that the idea of the Busemann resurfaced again. 

The story that Vendel had told was causing her imagination to run wild. Anna couldn't stop thinking about the monstrous teeth and claws he had described. With the tale still fresh in her mind, it was nearly impossible for her to push the thoughts aside. Especially now that the night had come to Arendelle, and the shadows twisted and stretched through every part of the castle.

Anna drew her bedroom curtains closed so the Busemann would be unable to look through the window. This action, unfortunately, made her bedroom even darker than it had been before. Pitch black, one might say. Without the light of the moon to guide her, Anna had to stumble to her bed from the window. 

Not for the first time that month, Anna wished Elsa would come out of her room and talk to her. Her older sister always knew just what to say to cheer her up. She never seemed to be bothered by monsters or ghost stories. She wouldn't be scared of the Busemann. 

Anna curled up in her bed, wrapping herself up in the thick blankets. She closed her eyes so tightly, she began to see swirling colourful patterns behind them. Her tense form and rapidly beating heart made it impossible for her to fall asleep. After a fitful twenty minutes with no rest, Anna opened her eyes to peek around her room. 

She immediately wished that she hadn't. 

In the far corner of her room, where Elsa's bed had once been, she could make out the siluette of a tall figure standing in the darkness. The person's face was obscured by shadows. The only features that were visible were two golden eyes and a wide grin full of pointed teeth. 

When Anna saw those teeth, the ones she had been imagining all day, her heart jumped to her throat. The Busemann was in her room. He had come to take her away, just as old Vendel said. 

The young princess couldn't move. She could only lay in her bed, petrified. This monster was going to take her away from her family, and lock her up in his basement. Then he would eat her skin. Her stomach caved in on itself and she wanted to scream, but she had no voice. She couldn't even open her lips. 

The monster took a step towards her and the vicious smile never left it's lips. Though her gaze never left the Busemann, in the corner of her eye she could make out a large object sitting on the nightstand beside her bed. 

An impulsive decision solidified in her mind as the Busemann took another step towards her. Gathering her bravery, Anna shifted closer to the edge of her bed. Her hand was shaking like a leaf when she reached out towards the object, which turned out to be a vase of roses. However, her movements were incredibly quick as she sat up and gripped the rim of the flower pot. Anna closed her eyes tightly as adrenaline rushed through her veins. She threw the heavy object with all her strength at the area where the monster stood. 

The sound of porcelain shattering against the wall and water splashing on the floor filled her ears. When she opened her eyes the dark figure was nowhere to be seen. The broken pieces of the vase and scattered roses lay on the floor, with no indication that they impacted anything other than the wall and the floor. Anna wondered if throwing the vase had scared the Busemann away, or perhaps he had never been there to begin with. Anna shifted in her bed so that she was completely sitting up right and squinted at the empty space before her, searching for movement. 

"You missed," a voice stated in a smooth baritone. Her blood ran cold. The sound came from right beside her bed. 

This time, Anna was able to let out a piercing scream. She shrieked at the top of her lungs before leaping from her bed and running as fast as she could towards the door. She didn't turn her head to view whatever had spoken in her ear. 

Anna flung the door open while yelling out for her Mama and Papa. With all the ruckus she was making, it didn't take long for her parents and a few of the palace guards to find her. 

"Anna," her mother gasped as the child ran into her arms. The Queen hugged the girl tightly and caressed the back of her head. This comforting action did nothing to settle Anna's erratic breathing. "What's wrong?"

"The Busemann!" she cried out, only now glancing back to her room. She watched for a flicker in the shadows, a movement that would signify the monster was still there. "He's here! He's come to take me away!"

"Anna," her father whispered, his voice soft and warm. "There's nothing to be afraid of. There's no such thing as the Busemann."

"But he was in my room!" Anna argued vehemently. "I saw him coming towards me. I heard him."

The king glanced over to the two guards that had come running upon hearing the princess's screams. He nodded sternly towards Anna's room, motioning for them to check inside. Though he would continue to tell his daughter that such terrifying fables were a product of her imagination, he couldn't take the chance she wasn't imagining an intruder in her room.

The guards quickly ran to the princess' quarters and searched the inside while the king and queen stayed behind with their daughter. 

Anna's breathing steadied as her mother continued to stroke her hair and hold her close. It barely registered in her mind as the rattling of armour echoed through the hall and the guards returned to salute their king. 

"There was no one in the princess's room, Your Majesty," the older one stated while the younger guard stood rigidly at his side. "We can continue search the hall for an intruder."

"No, that's alright," the king sighed in relief, standing up straight as he addressed the guards. "I'm sure my daughter just excited herself. That'll be all."

The guards bowed to their king before marching off back to their previous posts. 

"But Papa," Anna complained, still clinging to her mother's dressing gown. "It wasn't imaginary. The Busemann was really there." 

Her mother and father exchanged a look that Anna didn't understand. A soft smile graced her mother's lips, as she scooped Anna up into her arms.

"I'll take her to bed," she said, cradling the princess to her chest. "You need your rest."

Her father nodded and even Anna could see the dark ring under his eyes and the heavy sag of his shoulders. Her mother turned and took Anna back to her room, but Anna could see her father's laboured steps as he went back to his quarters. 

Anna's tiny fists gripped the silky fabric of her mother's dressing gown. She clung with such vigour that her mother had to pry her hands away as she placed her youngest daughter in bed. Anna continued to fuss, glaring at the dark corner of her room. She saw no movement nor lurking figures, but fear still chilled her veins. 

"Sweetheart," her mother hushed in a soft soothing voice, sitting down on the bed. "It's alright. There's nothing here that will hurt you."

"He was right there," Anna said stubbornly, pointing to the wall directly across from her bed. "I swear Mama, I wasn't pretending."

Her mother glanced back towards the wall and her eyes widened. She gasped as she rose from her seat. Though, her startled reaction had nothing to do with seeing a shadowy creature in the darkness. 

"Anna," she called to her daughter in a chiding tone, bending down to examine the broken pieces of the jardiniere and the roses that were now strewn across the floor. "You broke the vase your father gave you. I thought you liked picking flowers from the garden to put in here."

"I'm sorry mama," Anna answered, turning her gaze down to her silky sheets. Tears started to well up in her eyes. "I was just so scared. I didn't want the Busemann to get me so I threw it at him so he would go away."

Anna was startled by the amused chuckle her mother let out as she approached the bedside. "Well, I'm certain he won't be returning now," she said, running her fingers through her daughter's hair. "You probably scared him off."

Anna looked up at her mother with wide shinning eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked with a hint of uncertainty. 

"Of course," her mother replied with a laugh as light as tinkling bells. "Monsters never expect a little princess to be tougher than they are. He's probably terrified that you'll throw something else at him."

Anna giggled as her mother made a silly face. However, looking off to the dark corner of her bedroom caused her bright smile to fade. She reached out to take the queen's hand and clutched it with a serious urgency that was surprising to see in a child so cheerful and small.

"Will you stay with me mama?" she asked, her tiny voice wavering with fear. "To make sure he doesn't come back."

A gentle smile curved at her mother's lips. "Of course my darling."

That night, Anna fell asleep still clutching her mother's hand, with her back facing the dark corner. It was not until Anna was in a deep slumber, that the queen was able to release herself from the hold. However, as she left the room, casting a fond smile towards her youngest child, she was unable to see the dark figure standing beside the bed.


	2. Not Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thus Wendy first laid eyes on the dark figure who haunted her stories. She saw the piercing eyes and was not afraid, but entranced." Peter Pan (2003)

Anna awoke as sunlight spilled into her room. The housekeeper, Gerda, had sharply pulled her curtains open, since they had been drawn tightly closed the night before.

The young princess awoke with a yawn, rubbing her eyes so they would adjust to the bright light. When she could see clearly, she noticed the roses and pieces of porcelain had been cleaned up. 

With the room once again bathed sunlight, it was difficult to imagine a monster lurking in the darkness. However, Anna knew she hadn't imagined it. The dark figure along with the voice that she heard was real. The sheer terror it caused her was enough to convince her of that. 

Anna remembered the Busemann and his terrible grin, and she could still see those sharp knife like teeth in the back of her mind. Old Vendel had been very accurate with his description. 

"Vendel," The princess murmured to herself in sudden thought. The old librarian was the one who told her about the Busemann. He would have to believe her, and he would know what to do.

Anna leapt from her bed with a frantic speed. She got dressed as fast as she could, hardly caring about the dress she picked or about tying a sash around her waist as she usually did. 

The princess bolted out of her room, startling the few staff members that she passed. She ran with furious intensity towards the library. Her childish desperation had her racing to find old Vendel within the maze of bookshelves. 

When she finally found him, filing away some old scrolls, she skidded to a stop. Her noisy approach caused the old librarian to turn and glare at the child. Anna stood before him, breathless and shaking with boundless energy. 

"Princess Anna," he sighed in exasperation as he turned to face the child head on. His bright eyes were scrutinizing her disheveled appearance. "How many times have I told you not to bother me while-"

"The Busemann!" she yelled in between her gasps for air. Vendel was perplexed and annoyed by her sudden interruption. "I saw the Busemann! He was in my room and he tried to take me."

The sour expression on the Vendel's face faded away as he took in Anna's words. The old man let out a cackle, his wrinkles becoming even more pronounced as his lips stretched into a rare smile. 

"Well, it was about time," Vendel replied with a lecturing tone. "With all the ruckus you cause in this castle all on your own, I'm surprised he didn't come for you sooner."

Anna's bottom lip trembled as she looked up at the old man who made fun of her plight. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. 

"I'm scared, Vendel," she claimed with a wavering voice. "I'm not sure what to do if he comes back."

"Perhaps if you stop making such a fuss, he might not come back," the old answered sardonically, going back to filing away his scrolls and ignoring the child beside him. 

"Please, Vendel," Anna begged, reaching for his sleeve and pulling on it imploringly. "You're the only one who believes me."

The librarian looked down at her in annoyance, without an ounce of empathy in his eyes. He let out an exhausted sigh and rubbed his temples in agitation. Anna continued to stare up at him with a pleading expresion, completely unaware that the elderly man's only thought was on how to get the little girl out of his library. 

"Well, the Busemann might leave you alone if you scare him off," Vendel suggested with a bored groan, only half paying attention to the child. "Why don't you find something to keep him away from you?"

"But how can I scare him?" Anna asked, tilting her head to the side in contemplation. She pursed her lips and tried to think as hard as she could. "What are monsters scared of?"

Her expression brightened as an idea came to mind. She may not know how to scare the Busemann away, but she knew there several stories where monsters were vanquished and good triumphed. Perhaps she could get an idea from one of them. 

Anna released her hold on Vendel's sleeve and offered him a large toothy grin. "Thanks Vendel," she chirped before rushing away, consumed by her new mission.

The crotchety old man grumbled to himself as the child flew off towards the isles full of fairytales. She selected several books off the shelves, scouring for stories about defeating scary monsters. Eventually, her arms were so full that she could barely walk out of the library. 

Anna waddled awkwardly down the hallway towards her room, her eyes just barely peaking over the stack of books that she held. One book slipped from her grasp when she stumbled over her own feet. The rest of the books followed the other to the floor as the young princess tried to reach for it. 

Anna huffed out a sigh of frustration, blowing a few strands of unruly hair out of her face. Just as she was going to gather up all her books and continue on her long march back to her room, she took sudden notice of where she was. 

The door was closed, as it always was. Elsa was no doubt still inside, focusing on her studies or something of the like. The blizzard had come to an end the other night and the outside was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Normally with weather like this, Anna would have come to knock on her door already and beg her to come out and play. Anna was so preoccupied with the Busemann that she hadn't even thought of her sister. Though, perhaps her sister might have the answer to her problem. Elsa was so smart, and she was never scared of monsters. 

Leaving her many fairytale books scattered on the ground, Anna marched up to the door and gently rapped her knuckles against the wood door. There wasn't any silly melody to her rhythm as she knocked on the door. She was too nervous for it. 

"Elsa?" she called, looking through the keyhole. "Elsa, can I ask you a question? You don't need to come out, it's just a question."

There was a hopeful tremor beneath her skin as she waited patiently for a response. She wrung her hands and glanced through the keyhole again. She couldn't make out any movement in what she could see of the room. 

Finally, she heard a feint reply through the door. 

"What is it, Anna?" Elsa's soft voice answered, somewhat hesitantly. 

Anna felt a rush of warmth in her chest when she heard her sisters voice. A joyous smile made its way to her lips as she placed her palm flat against the door.

"Do you know what monster's are afraid of?" she asked hopefully, tilting her head in question as she leaned towards the door. 

There was a long silence that dragged on, causing Anna to grow anxious. She was just about to repeat her question, when she heard Elsa's shaky response. "W-what are you talking about?" 

"I want to scare off the Busemann so that he won't take me away," Anna answered, and her eyes dropped to her shoes with a mixture of fear and embarrassment. "But I don't know how."

"Anna, the Busemann isn't real," Elsa stated curtly. 

The younger princess stomped her foot down in frustration. Why didn't anyone other than Old Vendel believe her? She wasn't pretending or misremembering a dream. The Busemann was going to come back and take her, and no one cared. There was a childish stubbornness that had her pushing against the statements of her elders and kept her from accepting their word as fact. 

"Yes he is! I saw him last night and I heard him too," Anna practically shouted as anger flared in her blood. She calmed herself quickly and lowered her voice. She didn't want to upset her sister when they were finally talking. "Please, Elsa. I don't know what to do." 

There was another silence and this one continued for even longer than the last. Her heart sank in her chest and nearly all her energy deflated as her sister refused to speak. Anna wanted to kick herself for yelling at Elsa and causing her to retreat even further away. However, Anna's spirits were lifted when she heard her sister speak again. 

"Knights," Elsa replied. Her voice was nearly vacant of emotion, but Anna could make out the soft sweetness that lingered on her words. "All the monsters in stories are afraid of knights."

"Really?" Anna asked in a tiny hopeful voice. Her turquoise eyes were wide as saucers and were shining with relief.

"Yep," Elsa continued. Her tone was lighter and more friendly as she went on. "They're afraid of knights, and light, and true love. That's the kind of thing that always defeats the monster."

Anna squared her shoulders and determination and grinned with this new information. She knew how to stop the Busemann and scare him away. Bouncing on her toes in elation, Anna placed both her palms against the door and a smile of fondness flooded her features. 

"Thanks Elsa," she said with a cheerful lilt in her voice. She would have asked her sister if she wanted to go out into the snow and build a snowman, as she had so many times before, but she had a lot of things to do. "I'll see you later."

She wasn't sure if she would see her later, but she did hope for it. 

Anna carried all her books off to her room and quickly dumped them near her bed. She then rushed through the castle and gathered a dozen candles from various rooms; ones who's absence were sure to go unnoticed. After dropping that collection off in her room, Anna ran to find one of the decretive suits of armour that were found throughout the palace halls. 

Anna didn't think she would be able to find a knight to help her at such short notice. So, she resolved that she would instead make herself the knight. All the brave knights wore armour in the illustrations of her fairytales. As long as she had some armour and a big sword, it wouldn't be difficult to be a knight on her own. 

The young princess was unable to take the entire suit of armour apart, but she was able to pull off the hemet and yank the sword away from the gauntlet's grip. The weight of the armour made it impossible to carry in her tiny arms, but Anna was quick to improvise. Placing the weapon and helmet on a blanket and then dragging them behind her, she was able to get the helmet and sword back to her chambers. The young girl was completely exhausted when she finally got to her room and shoved the armour pieces beside the story books. 

Later that night, after pursuing all the fairytales and having a quick dinner with her parents, Anna set to work on lighting all her candles and placing them on her nightstand. With the curtains drawn open, allowing silver moonlight to flood through the windows, the bedroom was flooded with light. Anna skewered her face with determination and shoved the helmet onto her head. She swayed back and forth on her feet as the heavy helmet weighed down on her spine and inhibited her balance. With increased effort, the child was able to hoist herself and the large sword up onto her bed. 

With her sword, helmet, and her dozen candles bathing the room in golden light, Anna felt herself become enveloped by courage. She could face any monster that came with the night. 

Tiny hands gripped the hilt of the large sword, though her small arms couldn’t lift the blade more than an inch from the mattress. She breathed heavily with anticipation and stared ahead at the spot where the Busemann stood the night before. Even with the moonlight flooding the windows, that corner of her room was still drenched in shadow.

Anna waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing happened. She couldn’t see any dark figure or toothy grin. Minutes rolled on but the Busemann wouldn’t appear. Anna began to wonder if she truly had been imagining, or perhaps it had only been a nightmare. However, just as those doubts began to creep into her thoughts, she heard a voice. 

“Do you actually believe any of that will help you?” 

Anna’s hairs stood on end and the breath in her lungs vanished. She whipped around to find a tall shadowy silhouette, standing off to the side of her bed, beside the fireplace. 

He was taller than she remembered, towering over her bed and casting a long dark shadow along the floor. The light of the moon allowed Anna to see the side of his face, and she could make out spiked ebony hair and a sliver of deathly grey skin. The yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, piercing through her like a hook. 

Anna’s hands trembled violently as she gripped the hilt of the sword with all the strength she could muster. Something thick and dry was caught in her throat and she couldn’t swallow no matter how she tried. 

“Stay back!” she tried to yell, but the words came out as a croak. 

The Busemann smiled, displaying his pointed teeth. “Or what?” he asked, his voice was sinister but soft. It was like a dark velvet sash, curling around her, choking her. 

“Or...” she started, pausing to take a breath to steady herself. She lifted the sword from the mattress with a jolt of exertion. “Or I’ll strike you down with- umph!” 

Her dramatic declaration was interrupted when the weight of the sword overcame her strength. The weapon slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor wiith a heavy clatter. Anna stared at the gleaming blade on the ground, her eyes wide with shock and devastation. 

“Well,” he whispered in a bemused and mocking tone. “I’m absolutely terrified.”

Anna was inexperienced with sarcasm at her young age, but she could tell when someone was making fun of her. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and fury. An impulsive rage jolted through her veins and set her insides on fire. The overwhelming terror that the Busemann represented didn’t stop her from whipping her helmet off and chucking it at him. There was a thundering crash when it hit the corner of the fireplace, right beside him. 

The Busemann looked off to the side to where the helmet landed with casual interest. “I see your aim hasn’t gotten any better,” he commented before taking a step towards her. 

Anna’s heartbeat quickened when he drew nearer. Something deep in her belly twisted up painfully. “Go away!” she yelled, squaring her shoulders and puffing out her chest to make herself appear intimidating. 

The Busemann didn’t say anything. He continued to slowly come closer, much to Anna’s dismay. A soft dark chuckle filled the room as Anna’s bravados melted away and she recoiled from the approaching figure. 

In a last second effort to save herself, Anna reached for one of the many candles upon her nightstand. Tiny fingers gripped the looped handle of the antique chamber-stick holder. The flame flickered as Anna held the candle out in front of her like a weapon. 

“I said go away!” she yelled again, trying her best to mimic the strength and courage of the knights in her books. “I know monsters don’t like the light.”

“Really?” he asked in interest, as if she had imparted the most fascinating information. 

The sharpened half grin on the Busemann’s face vanished so the princess could no longer see those pointed teeth. His yellow eyes and towering figure faded into the shadows. 

Anna strained to see him in the darkness, but he was no longer visible. Despite his sudden disappearance from her sight, she knew that she hadn’t managed to frighten him off. She felt the weight of his presence, pushing down on her shoulders, causing her body to feel heavy. He was still in the room, watching her. 

“Y-yes,” she stuttered in response to his question. She swallowed the dry itch in her throat and held the chamber-stick tighter. “Elsa says that monsters are afraid of the light.”

There was another echo of laughter and the sound was sharper and crueler than before. There was something truly frightening hidden in the depths of that laughter, some dark intention that Anna was too young to understand. It made her want to jump out of her bed and run for the hall. 

However, before plans of escape could solidify in her thoughts, a long sallow face appeared just inches in front of her own. 

“Do I look afraid?” the Busemann hissed with a vicious sneer twisting his face. His slashed grin returned with full force when he saw the horror in the young princess’s eyes. That horrible smile was even more terrifying up close.

The air froze within her lungs and she was unable to feel her own heartbeat. For a moment Anna could only feel every fibre within her trembling. She could only see the Busemann’s grin of sharp uneven teeth, illuminated by the candle flame. In that moment, she could only think of how those teeth would tear into her skin and rip it from her bones. 

But then she glanced up and her eyes met his. Something fragile fluttered in her chest, and it took Anna a moment to realize that it was her own heartbeat. His eyes were sunken in and surrounded by shadow, but this only accentuated their colour. Those eyes, which looked to be a sickly yellow from a distance, were in truth pools of shimmering gold surrounded by rings of silver. Staring into them was like drowning in treasure. 

Anna released a tiny breath that escaped her lips in a soft sigh. She had never seen such beautiful eyes. 

As Anna stared at him with an expression of enchantment instead of one of fear, the Busemann’s smile fell and his brow furrowed. This wasn’t the response he was anticipating. 

The spell that Anna was under shattered when her bedroom door opened with a slam behind her. All the candles blew out at once, including the one in her hand. With the light of the moon, Anna was still able to make out the lithe figure of the Busemann as he stood to his full intimidating height and backed away from her. 

Anna remembered her fear and she scrambled to the other end of her bed just as she heard a voice from behind her. 

“Anna!” her father called to her in alarm as he barged into her room with two guards at his back. 

“Papa!” she cried in relief. He ran to her and immediately enveloped her in a tight embrace. 

“Are you alright? We heard a crash! What happened?” he asked, frantically looking her over to see if she was injured. 

Anna turned and pointed to the corner of her room beside her fireplace where the Busemann still stood. His eyes glowed as he stared back at her. 

“It’s the Busemann!” she squealed, huddling closer to her father as she looked at the tall figure. “He’s come to take me away!”

Her father looked to where she was pointing, as did the two guards. His hand gently stroked the ends of her hair in reassurance. Anna wanted to sob. She was safe. Her father was here to protect her and the guards would arrest the Busemann. 

“There’s nothing there, sweetheart,” her father murmured. He cupped her cheeks with his palms and looked down at her with soft green eyes and a small gentle smile. But Anna was far from comforted by his compassion. “It’s alright, nothing is going to hurt you.” 

Anna pulled her face away and turned to look at the Busemann once again. Staring back at her were those same gold and silver eyes that she had been so hypnotized by before. 

“But,” Anna protested weakly, her voice escaping her dry throat as a whimper. “He’s right there.”

The shadow grinned and backed further into the darkness until he was completely hidden from view. 

Anna quivered as she drew away from her father’s embrace, peering into the dark corner of her room. The helmet she had thrown was still on the floor. There was no trace of the Busemann, as if he completely disappeared. She had seen him there, standing just within the beam of silver moonlight. Her father should have seen him as well when she pointed him out. But he couldn’t see him. Why couldn’t he see him?

“Anna,” her father addressed her, his tone took on a note of anger. “What are you doing with a display sword in your room?”

Anna tore her eyes away from the dark corner. One of the guards held up the long sword that had been dropped on the ground with a perplexed look on his face. The narrowed eyes of her father looked down on her with a heated scrutiny. 

Anna’s mind went blank. “Uhhhhh.”


	3. No Such Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh Reverend, please, can I chew your ear?  
> I've become what I most fear  
> And I know there's no such thing as ghosts  
> But I have seen the demon host.”   
> Timbre Timbre, Demon Host

To say Anna was ‘in trouble’ for stealing a decretive armoured helmet and sword to fight an imaginary monster would be an understatement. Her father was furious with her for bringing a dangerous weapon into her room without considering the consequences. Swords weren’t toys to play with and she could have gotten hurt. Along with the plethora of candles she had stolen from around the castle. She was incredibly lucky that she hadn’t started a fire. Her excuse of using these items to scare off the Busemann only seemed to anger her father further. 

The first thing in the morning, her father dragged her to the library. Old Vendel had been pouring over a particularly thick volume of Arendelle’s history texts when the king marched into his sacred space to confront him.

“Vendel,” her father commanded, and his voice was harsh enough to cause Anna to shrink back. “Why have you been telling my daughter that the Busemann was going to take her away?”

The king’s firm posture and stony features were enough to startle the old man when he looked up to meet his gaze. However, his shock melted away in the moment that he found the young princess tucked by the king’s side and processed what he had said. 

“I only told the little Princess what she wanted to hear, your Majesty,” Vendel argued in a gentle manner, closing the thick book with a dull thud. He had mastered the art of arguing with a king without repercussions many years before Anna was born. “Princess Anna inquired about the Busemann, so I imparted the information.”

Anna looked up at her father to gauge his reaction, wondering if he would be cross with her for asking about the Busemann when Vendel first mentioned him. Her father’s gaze flickered down towards her for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t admonish her like she thought. 

“And now thanks to your fables,” her father snapped at the old librarian, but Vendel didn’t seem phased by the king’s temper. “My daughter believes that the Busemann is real and that he is planning to kidnap her.”

“And eat my skin,” Anna pipped up, because that was the thing that really frightened her. 

Her father shot her a disapproving glare before returning his cold gaze to the librarian. Anna immediately clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t want to get into anymore trouble. 

“Well, I have no control over what the little princess believes,” the old man countered, sapphire eyes glowing with mischief behind thick spectacles. “Children pick and choose the things they believe are real. Their minds are fickle that way.”

As Anna silently pondered on the meaning of the word fickle, her father let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, can you please inform her that there is no such thing as the Busemann,” he paused to look pointedly at his youngest daughter. “And that she has nothing to be scared of.”

“I’m afraid it’s impossible for me to make such statements your Majesty,” Vendel answered. Anna could hear his ancient bones creaking in protest as he lifted his chin upwards with superiority. A bold expression to bestow before a king. “There are many terrifying and strange things in this world. Who’s to say with certainty if the Busemann exists or not.”

“Vendel,” the king said, his voice low with warning. His impatience created furious cracks in his stern and icy expression.

“It’s not as if you’ve never encountered the unbelievable in your life, perhaps in this very castle,” the smirk that twitched at Vendel’s cracked lips was enough to set Anna’s father on edge, though Anna had no idea as to why. 

“Vendel, you are no longer to permitted to tell my daughter such stories,” her father ordered, straining against the primal rage in his eyes to keep a measure of composure. “And if I hear that you do, you will be relieved from your position.”

“As you command, your Majesty,” old Vendel complied with a respectful bow of his head. 

Aged papers fluttered and crackled like dead leaves when Vendel reopened the enormous book on his desk and continued to read. Once the king found that the old librarian had no other snippy retort, he marched out of the library with his young daughter in tow. 

“Fiendish old man,” her father muttered, holding Anna’s hand as he led her back to her room. She struggled to keep up with his furious pace and his long strides. “I don’t know why I keep him on staff.”

Once they made it to her chambers, her father knelt before Anna with a stern look on his face. There was a desperate softness that filled his eyes as he took her face in his calloused but gentle hands.

“Anna, you have to understand that there is no such thing as the Busemann,” her father stated, so firm and earnest that Anna almost believed him. “There are no monsters out there that will take you away from us. So, you need to stop worrying about fantasies and forget whatever Vendel told you, before you hurt yourself.”

Anna skewered her lips together and her eyebrows furrowed in question. “But why would Vendel lie?” she asked, hoping that this question might, against all odds, cause her father to believe her.

“That’s because-“ her father faltered, frowning as he debated on how to explain Vendel’s mischievous nature to his five year old. He looked at the space above her head like he could pull the answer out of the air. “He was just trying to scare you, Anna. It’s like playing a trick on someone.”

Anna’s frown deepened as she contemplated her father’s statement. She turned her gaze to the ground as she thought of when Vendel told her of the Busemann. He wanted her to get scared? As a trick? 

However, she couldn’t figure out how the Busemann could appear to her twice if Vendel had been lying the entire time. If the Busemann wasn’t real, then what was it that kept appearing in her room to torment her?

“That’s mean,” she said in response to her father’s statement, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up at him. 

“Yes it is,” her father “But that means that none of what Vendel said was true. It was just a mean trick. So there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Anna suppressed the need to protest even as her frustration and stubbornness swelled painfully within her chest. Everyone denied the Busemann’s existence, trying to dissuade her from indulging in the nightmares that came with him. However, though her elders attempting to convince her otherwise, Anna knew she had seen the Busemann. Or at least, some kind of monster. She didn’t think she would ever be able to rid his image from her mind. 

Even with her certainty, Anna knew that she couldn’t rely on her parents for help. For whatever reason, her father hadn’t been able to see him, and neither had the palace guards. They wouldn’t be able to protect her from something they could neither see nor believe in.

Anna desperately wanted to beg her father to stay with her and keep her safe from the monster that was sure to return the next night, but she didn’t want to get into anymore trouble. Her father was angry enough about her taking the sword and all those candles, and she didn’t want to provoke him further by continuing to push the story of the Busemann. So she kept her lips pressed firmly together and only responded with a curt nod. 

Her father was visibly relieved by this action, granting her a soft smile and a tender kiss on her forehead. As he pulled away, he held her shoulders in a firm grip and stared her down with a severe expression. 

“You’re grounded for the day,” he stated, his green eyes hard like stone. “And you’re banned from the library for a month.”

“What?” Anna exclaimed, gaping at her father in despair. She hadn’t ever been grounded before, and she didn’t believe her actions to be so terrible. She was merely defending herself. “But why?”

“Because you nearly cut yourself in half and set you’re room on fire last night,” her father answered, looking down on her with such disappointment that Anna had to turn her gaze to the ground to avoid his stare. “You are to work on your studies in your room for the day. No wandering the castle or going outside. Do you understand?”

Anna wanted to scream and cry. She wanted to magically convince her father of the Busemann’s existence and that she had only been defending herself. But there was nothing else she could say. 

So, despite how each of her muscle fibres trembled with tension as her father left her room, Anna remained silent and still. The door closed behind her father with a soft click that seemed to echo in her deathly quiet room. 

Afterwards, Anna had to find ways to occupy herself in order she wouldn’t go mad with the fear of the Busemann or collapse from boredom. She tried to read her books but the words were lost to her before she could process them. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus. All she could do was watch as the sun dipped lower and lower until it touched the horizon. She had no idea how Elsa could stand being trapped in her room every day. 

Anna’s meals had been brought to her room throughout the day while she was stuck with her boredom and anxiety. However, even after consuming the thick stew that had been delivered to her, Anna was still overcome with a nervous and gnawing hunger that chewed at her insides. She just knew in the depths of her soul, that some creamy chocolate would make her feel more cheerful and secure. 

As night approached, Anna’s combined boredom and her own ravenous sweet tooth pushed her to sneak out of her room. No one stood guard at her door, to make sure she remained confined, which was a relief to her. Her overactive imagination had her worried that a line of armoured soldiers stood between her and the palace kitchens. With her small stature and the quiet padding of her bare feet on the floor, she was able to creep into the kitchen and back out again with a bowl of chocolates in her arms with relative ease.

Anna had been so slow and cautious on her journey to and from the kitchen that she hadn’t noticed the darkness creeping over the castle. By the time she reached her room, night had fallen and the chamber was bathed in shadow. 

Anna froze at the edge of her doorway, unable to take another step for fear that the darkness would swallow her whole. She swallowed a dry lump in her throat and subconsciously bit her lip as she squinted through dark. She took a slow and tentative step into the room, wincing as the floorboard moaned under the weight of her foot. Anna paused to see if the long shadows had stirred at the sound and when she found no movement, she took another step. Her slow approach soon became too agonizing for her, so she chose to throw caution to the wind and race towards the bed. 

Anna clutched the bowl of chocolates to her chest like a lifeline as she ran through the dark room. Unfortunately, her clumsy feet soon became uncoordinated and her legs entangled. Anna fell to the ground with a thud, wincing as her bare skin was raked against the rug. A few of the chocolates tumbled out of the bowl and scattered across the floor. 

Anna was now sprawled out on her stomach, just in front of her bed. As she slowly lifted her head, the first thing she saw was the pair of pale golden eyes staring back at her from underneath the bed. Anna took in sharp gasp of air, her lungs expanding painfully while her heart pounded so hard that her ribs began to ache. Her terrified features caused a sharp grin of pointed teeth to stretch across the Busemann’s face.

Anna struggled to get up on her hands and knees, tumbling backwards when she tried to stand up. Her breathing became heavy and erratic as she desperately scrambled to get out of the room. However, just when within reach of escape, the door slammed shut on its own, causing Anna to shriek. She flung her self at the door, wrenching at the handle with all her strength. It wouldn’t budge despite the adrenaline rushing through her and her desperate pleas for mercy. Hot tears of fear and despondence stung her eyes as she beat her tiny fists against the door. But it didn’t open, and no one came to help her. 

The air around her grew cold as a long and heavy shadow fell over her. Anna’s heart nearly stopped when she turned to find the Busemann standing behind her. She couldn’t breathe; it was as if her throat had closed and no air was being allowed to pass through. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream as she pressed her back flat against the door. 

“My dear, you’re trembling,” the Busemann stated and his voice was velvety and warm. But the sound paired with his malevolent smile was anything but comforting. “I thought you were a fearless knight, ready to strike me down if I approached. Are you afraid of me, little knight?”

Horrible shadows twisted from the edges of his grin and stretched up to his eyes as he mocked her. Anna sank down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Even as he bowed down to bring his face closer to hers, he still towered over her and his shadow completely blanketed her cowering form. Anna shook her head in fear as he came nearer, and a few stray tears pushed out from the corners of her eyes. With a quick glance to either side of her, she couldn’t find anything that could be used for defence. And the Busemann was too close for her to slip away without him stopping her. She was trapped. 

“Wh-Who are you?” Anna whimpered, recoiling further from him and wishing that she could sink into the floor and disappear. 

The question caused the Busemann to release a throaty chuckle, and he tilted his head to the side in curiosity. “I thought you already knew,” he simpered. 

Beyond the fear that had her shivering on the floor, Anna could feel her cheeks flush with anger as he continued to ridicule her. She had thought she knew who he was. However, her father’s words had caused a an itch of uncertainty to surface. If Vendel had made the Busemann up in order to frighten her, why this man was here? Was he the truly Busemann? Was Vendel telling the truth while her father lied about him making it up? Was her father just unaware of the Busemann existing? It was all so confusing and frustrating to her. 

“Are you the Busemann?” she asked, and her voice was now stronger than before thanks to her newfound fury along with her need for answers. 

His grin fell when he saw the terror filter from her eyes and be replaced with her ire. The fearful tears that he had caused only made her eyes gleam fiercely in the darkness. The man stood up straight, and the sight of him standing so tall over her caused her to shiver. But she tried her best to keep her face stern as she stared at him. He tilted his chin upward and stared at the ceiling in contemplation before looking back down at her with a smirk. 

“There are some who call me that,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders as he tucked his hands behind his back. “But I have many other names.”

Anna crinkled her brow and frowned when she heard his vague response. She wasn’t sure what any of this meant. Vendel told her the Busemann would come and take her away. Her father told her that Vendel had been trying to trick her, that he had never believed in the Busemann. And she couldn’t think that her father lied. But the frightening man that stood before her claimed to be him. Or at least, he claimed that people called him the Busemann. He matched Vendel’s description perfectly, and the fact that only she could see him made her assume he was at least a little magical. It made her question who and what he really was. 

“Well, what do you like to be called?” she asked, slowly standing from her huddled position on the floor. As she looked up and caught sight of his sharp golden and silver eyes, she felt what was left of her terror fade away into curiosity. 

At the strange expression on her face, a mix of curious and sceptical, his smirk fell. The way his lips twisted into a slight snarl and a spark of annoyance flashed behind his eyes would have made her afraid if she hadn’t been so confused. 

“Pitch Black,” he said and his tone was now icy. He backed further into the darkness, stretching his arms wide. “The King of Nightmares.”

The shadows seemed to lurch at his command, melding into an illusion that resembled monstrous claws at the end of his fingers along with thin treelike limbs sprouting from his back like wings. As darkness obscured his features, Anna saw his lips stretch into a grin that was unnaturally wide, practically splitting his face in two. A smile that was full of teeth like needles, glowing along with his hypnotic golden eyes. He seemed to grow taller and more slender, creating a menacing figure with arms and legs that were far too long for a human man. 

Anna was transfixed by the horrifying image that had been presented to her. However, she was more fascinated than she was afraid. It was an incredible spectacle to her youthful mind, to see someone control the night with such grace, as if darkness itself was a part of him. In some dark corner of her brain, Anna had the distinct feeling that she had seen such abilities before. 

Anna suddenly recalled that the man, Pitch Black, had labeled himself the King of Nightmares. She wasn’t sure if that was an official title, but her habitual response to meeting members of nobility had her dipping into a dainty curtsy. “I’m Princess Anna of Arendelle.”

The shadows seemed to retreat behind him as his monstrous illusion was shattered. His grin fell and he stared at her with scrutinizing eyes as if he were calculating her intentions. “Yes,” he slowly replied. “I am aware.”

Anna stood from her curtsy, keeping a cautious eye on Pitch as she tiptoed around him. He in turn, kept his cold glare on her as she manoeuvred her way towards her bed. The bowl she had stolen from the kitchen was on the ground, thankfully still upright with all the chocolates inside. She retrieved the dish from the floor and turned to hold it out towards the Busemann.

“Here,” she said, her eyes wide as she looked up at the shadowy man before her. Her hands were shockingly steady as she held the bowl. 

“Are you planning on throwing that at me?” he inquired with a distasteful sneer. His harsh tone caused her to retract her hands slightly. “That never works out well for you.”

“No!” Anna denied sharply. Her cheeks tinted pink when she remembered how she had thrown the helmet and her vase at the Nightmare King and missed both times. “I just thought, if you were hungry, you could have some chocolate instead of my skin. It’ll taste better.”

Her voice was chipper and light as she took a delaying step towards him and once again held the dish outwards. She flashed Pitch a tight but hopeful smile in an attempt to be charming and non threatening, even as he looked at her with skepticism and perplexity. She was confident that not even the Busemann could resist the allure of chocolate. 

“How thoughtful,” he replied, his tone was deadpan and his features were cold and stoney. Then as the darkness fell over him like a shroud, his lips stretched into the menacing grin of a hungry shark. “But perhaps I prefer children’s skin.”

The way he grinned at her, like he was purposefully wrenching at her heart and causing her insides to coil into knots, reminded Anna of how Vendel had played with her fears when he told her about the Busemann. The way he snapped his teeth in order to make her jump in fright. The young princess silently recalled what her father had told her earlier that day, her eyes growing wide like saucers with a sudden realization.

He was just trying to scare you, Anna. It’s like playing a trick on someone.

“Is this a trick?” she asked as her father’s words of comfort from before rang like a bell through her mind. A deep frown crossed her features as she stared up at the man before her. “Are you just trying to scare me?”

Pitch’s eyes widened in surprise and confusion at her words. “What?”

Anna, becoming convinced that this man had the same mischievous intent as Vendel, crossed her arms and regarded the Busemann thoughtfully before making her declaration. “I don’t think your going to hurt me. I think you’re just trying to trick me.”

The king of nightmares narrowed his eyes on her, dissecting her firm expression and unyielding stance. Anna could tell he was frustrated by her lack of fear by the way his top lip twitched with a sneer and his golden eyes flared with a cold fury. He didn’t respond, but Anna knew in her gut that he despised her dauntless response to his intimidation. 

“Well it’s not going to work,” she stated, puffing her chest out as she grasped a newfound bravery and determination to defy this spirit that had been haunting her. 

“Is that so?” he hissed, and the dark became heavier as his voice dropped to a low octave. He vanished from sight and the shadows enveloped them both, blinding the young princess to her surroundings.

Anna could feel something thin but strong coil around her ankles, the tactile sensation reminding her of a velvet sash. It rooted her to her spot, constricting around her legs in an almost painfully tight hold. Anna struggled against her binds, even though it was impossible to see in the thick blackness and her feet wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tried. 

Pitch’s voice seemed to swirl around her and echo off the walls, making Anna feel like she was being surrounded on all sides. “You know I can tell when you’re lying. I always know someone’s greatest fears.”

Despite how he had somehow restrained her and his voice closed in around her like a suffocating fog, Anna kept her head high and her shoulders squared . Elsa had said monsters were afraid of knights. And the knights in her stories never bowed to the whims of the monsters they faced. Her face was almost comically stern as she responded to Pitch’s taunt with the deepest and most threatening voice she could muster. 

“Do I look afraid?”

Anna stood there with her chest out, her stance wide and her clenched fists placed firmly on her hips, while everything around her remained still and quiet. The darkness remained so heavy that it nearly chocked her, the Busemann remained unseen and her ankles remained bound by some invisible force. The silence stretched on for what felt like hours, but Anna didn’t dare struggle against her restraints and expose her terror of being trapped in her place. All she could do was puff out her chest even further and skewer her face into one of an unwavering warrior. 

Anna’s stiff expression fell when she heard the Busemann laugh. This was not the dark mocking chuckle nor sinister snickering she had heard from him before, but full on roaring laughter. She was stunned as he cackled like he had seen the most hilarious thing he had ever witnessed, and as his laughter dragged on for an uncomfortably long time, Anna felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. She could feel his gaze burning into her and shrunk beneath the heat of it. 

“You’re a plucky little thing, aren’t you?” Pitch commented, and his laughter slowly died off as he spoke. Though, Anna could tell by the patronizing tone in his voice that he was still making fun of her. “If not a bit brash. I’d like to see how long that will last.” 

Anna felt the binding around her legs slink away like the tails of snakes, and a shiver crawled up her spine at the feeling of it. The shadows slowly retreated until the light of the moon and the stars once again flooded her room and she was able to see clearly. Though Anna still couldn’t see him, she heard Pitch’s voice echoing around her before he finally disappeared. 

“Let’s meet again soon, your highness.”


	4. Don’t Even Tempt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could corrupt you  
> In a heartbeat  
> You think you're so special  
> Think you're so sweet  
> What are you trying?  
> Don't even tempt me  
> Soon you'll be crying  
> And wishing you'd dreamt me.” Depeche Mode, Corrupt

In the centuries that had passed since the dark ages, humanity had entered what they considered an ‘era of enlightenment’. Anything outside the scope of their comprehension was treated as non existent. People no longer believed in things beyond their senses, casting the spirits around them into the realm of superstition and myth. The older these mortals became, the more they would associate the fantastical with the fictional. True, unwavering belief was rare. 

Except among the children. The older generation would pass on stories of the spirits they had once believed in to their offspring. Their impressionable minds took every word as fact and the spirits became their reality. Of course they would start to doubt the faith they once held in fairytales as they grew up, much like their parents had before them. However, they were always willing to encourage belief in those younger than them and continue the cycle. Something about preserving an innocence that they regret loosing themselves. It was a fascinating aspect of the human culture.

It was through the children of the world that the Guardians continued to flourish and thrive, meanwhile Pitch languished in the shadows. 

Unless as a threat of disobedience, or a rumour used by older siblings to terrorized the younger ones, the belief in monsters and the king of nightmares was discouraged. The children would be constantly reassured by gentle and humouring smiles and a firm declaration: ‘there is no such thing as the boogeyman’. 

Pitch despised those words more than anything he had ever heard. The flippant erasure of his existence used as a way for parents to placate children so they wouldn’t have to endure the tears and screams. He wished they believed in him, for only a moment, just so he could strangle them after they uttered those words. 

Though the belief in monsters and living nightmares was repressed greatly, in certain areas the fear was so thick that it didn’t matter. Areas where wealth was scarce and starvation was plentiful, and Pitch could remain there for days while feeding off the terror. The state of desolation that these people lived in was easy for him to manipulate; a simple flicker in the shadows at night could pry the most delicious cries from the children. If it weren’t for the Guardians hunting him down and chasing him out whenever he settled, paired with his own desire to spread his fear to all corners of the world, Pitch would have stayed in such places indefinitely. 

Arendelle was not such a place. A peaceful self sustaining little country, where the citizens enjoyed a life of relative contentment with little unease or struggles. The kingdom didn’t breed the terror he craved, so he rarely would have found an occasion to travel there. 

The only reason he came there now was due to a rumour. A rumour that may prove fruitless, but alas his curiosity and aching need to acquire more power pushed past his common sense. 

Pitch stood to the side, hidden by long shadows of dusk, observing the young princess in her room. He had been watching her with a dwindling interest for an hour or so. Though he could sense anxiousness within her, some vague fear lingering in the background of her consciousness. She was afraid of herself, of a possible mistake she could make and the consequences that would follow. Her fear was constant, but it was only slight and certainly not enough to sustain him. 

He had considered abandoning this endeavour when his investigation had turned up no results after the hour passed. Pitch scowled bitterly at the flaxen haired girl who sat stiffly at her desk, writing notes while reading from a thick volume. Not only did she show no signs of her supposed abilities, but she hadn’t even turned slightly or acknowledged his presence since he had arrived. He doubted this spoiled child believed in him at all, and the thought made him gnash his teeth in frustration. He had never wasted this much time on such a useless girl. 

Just as he was sinking into the darkness, preparing to depart and avoid this frustrating place, something incredible happened. 

The child had been struggling to separate two pages that were stuck together, and in an attempt to turn to the desired page she removed her blue satin glove. A pale and trembling hand grasped the corner of the page as the princess quietly whispered a strange mantra to herself over and over. 

“Conceal, don’t feel. Conceal, don’t feel.” 

Despite her attempts to suppress her emotions and maintain whatever barrier kept her powers contained, spiderwebs of ice erupted from her fingertips. Nearly the entire book was frosted over when she sharply pulled her hand away. Even Pitch could feel the temperature of the room drop, and when he glanced upwards he found a light dusting of snow falling from thin air. A predatory grin crossed his features as he stared at the child before him, desperately trying to shove her glove back on while repeating her little words like they formed a broken prayer. 

He heartily drank in her terror as if he were a man dying of thirst. She was absolutely horrified by her own power, while Pitch was rather impressed. The winter magic she possessed seemed to manifest through her heightened emotions, her fear especially. Her uneven breathing and quickening heart rate contributed to the spreading of her ice across her desk and the heaviness of the snow. 

“How interesting,” he mused, stepping towards the child as the last few tendrils of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. “It seems for once the rumours proved true. But you don’t seem to have much control, little princess.”

The child shivered as the glove was once again engulfing her hand, and seemingly containing her magic. The ice crackled with the potential to crawl further, but stayed stagnant as her fingers were covered. The snow became lighter, dispersing as her breathing became deep and controlled. 

“Conceal, don’t feel. Conceal, don’t feel.”

She continued whispering this to herself as she flexed her fingers and took a step away from her desk. The temperature rose as the snow disappeared, and Pitch watched with lingering disappointment as her ice began to slowly recede. 

The princess showed no sign of seeing him, and even as he loomed over her shoulder, she didn’t have the slightest inclination of his essence. He glowered at her as she eased herself into a state of peace. 

A child like her had neither the time nor the perception to believe in monsters or boogeymen. The only monster within her mind was herself. 

It was a shame. Pitch could have taught her to discipline herself, reign her powers in until they were truly her own. It was aggravating, to imagine the things he could do with this child under his control. Someone who was so entrenched in their own fear, a terror they could not hope to escape from, would be malleable clay in his meticulous hands. He could show her the true meaning of being a monster, and he would have her take pride in it. Testing the extent of her power would be fascinating, and perhaps she would be strong enough to destroy the Guardians, have them freeze to death within the winter she creates. A vicious smirk graced his lips at the thought. 

However, this girl didn’t even believe in him. She glanced over him as if he weren’t even there, her arm brushing straight through him as she walked towards her bookshelf. A strange numbness shuddered through his body, shaking him like a cold current in his bloodstream. The colour of the room seemed to grow dull as a frightful breath hitched in his chest. But then the moment passed, and Pitch regained the sensation that he was whole, that he wouldn’t fade into nothing. 

Pitch straightened his back and fixed a glare on the princess, staring her down with all the hatred he possessed. It was a pity she couldn’t see him; if she could she would have been struck with horror. 

He left the room after that, livid beyond all reason and overcome with the desire to make someone miserable. The boogeyman wished to tear apart the complacent atmosphere of this little kingdom, to destroy the false sense of security the citizens built around themselves. And he decided to start with the youngest princess.

The eldest girl, no more than eight years old, was a rarity if he ever saw one. Humans with magical abilities weren’t unheard of, but in most cases the magic within them was more of an untapped potential, lying dormant without the right provocation. This girl seemed to be bursting at the seems with her own power, and every piece that slipped away from her caused her incredible distress. 

In contrast the younger princess, a child of only five or so, was painfully ordinary. Pitch hadn’t even known of her existence until he heard her insistently knocking on her sister’s door. She was turned away almost immediately, and if Pitch had cared enough he might have been curious about the oldest child’s cold response. 

The Boogeyman had entered the younger girl’s chamber with animosity gnawing at his core, ready to be especially cruel and rip a blood curdling scream from that tiny throat. The room was absolutely drenched in blackness due to the red velvet curtains completely covering the window. In such darkness, a normal man would have been unable to even see the little girl curled up in the mass expanse of her bed. Upon transporting himself into the room through the shadows, Pitch immediately noticed the fear that gushed from the child as blood gushes from a wound. He felt it soak into his skin, racing through him like adrenaline and rejuvenating him with new life. He breathed in deeply, greedily taking in all the sweet intoxicating terror that she offered him, and he nearly released a laugh when he sensed the source of her fear.

Her mind was plagued with images of sharp teeth and long black talons as she attempted to sleep. One name rang clearly through her thoughts. The Busemann. One of the many alternative titles he had acquired within his lifetime, and the fact that this was the thought that had her tossing and turning so restlessly made him grin with total abandon. This child was afraid of him, she believed in him, and it made him swell with pride to imagine it.

When the princess caught sight of him, looking directly at him with eyes filled with fear, Pitch nearly shook from the euphoria. He was being seen for the very first time in decades.

He continued to grin maliciously, as the child stared back at him, growing more panicked with each step he took towards her. The nourishment he received from the girl’s fear was enough to satisfy his carnal hunger, but he pushed onward anyway. In that moment she was scared of him and only him, and the feeling was too addicting for him to relent now. 

He had expected her to cower beneath her sheets and tremble when his shadow finally fell upon her. He had expected her to scream and fuel his strength with her desperate cries. He had not expected her to throw a vase at him with the ferocity of a warrior launching a spear. 

The urn ended up shattering about a meter away from him, but the fact that she had the gall to throw it in his direction at all wiped the smile from his face. He might have been enraged by the disrespect had he not been amused by her failed attempt at self defence and impressed by her boldness. 

He traveled with the aide of the darkness to the space beside her bed. He watched with a smirk and his hands gracefully clasped behind his back as the girl stared at the space where he once stood in trepidation. 

“You missed,” he stated simply, revelling in the way she jumped at the sound of his voice and released a shriek. 

She immediately bolted from the room, desperately crying for her parents. Pitch watched in silent interest under the cover of the shadows as the royal guards diligently searched the room, though he wouldn’t have allowed them to find him even if they had believed in him. Only a few minutes after they departed empty handed, the queen entered with the little princess in their arms. Pitch could only roll his eyes at the woman’s attempt to calm her child’s nerves with empty words of comfort and assurance. 

The queen left her daughter alone when the child was finally lulled to sleep, oblivious to his presence even as he stepped from the shadows and towards the large bed. The princess’s breathing was steady and she no longer radiated the terror he craved as she had drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

Pitch took a moment to look her over, observing her delicate and tiny form within the sea of sheets. How easy it would be to break something so small. He could easily eradicate that false state of peace she entrapped herself within, torment her with his shadows and illusions until she was driven to madness. Though, he stayed his hand. He couldn’t rush this and drag everything out of her too soon, leaving only a husk behind. It was best to prolong her suffering and bask in the thrill of finally encountering a child that truly believed in him. He would like to keep her around for awhile, and see if she would perhaps surprise him once more.

He disappeared into the darkness with a wicked smile and the intention of returning the following night. At the time, Pitch had not anticipated just how different and fascinating this girl would prove herself to be.

Upon arriving in her room once more, he was stunned to find the same frightened little girl now wearing a helmet that was much too large for her and a look of fierce determination on her face. Within her petite hands she grasped the hilt of a long sword, though she could barely lift it from her bed. The gathering of lit candles she had on her bedside table created a blinding source of light, and the sight of it made him wince. 

Pitch had enjoyed taunting her, even as she showed more bravery than expected, savouring her crestfallen expression when her absurd and laughable plans to scare him off were soundly demolished. She tried to declare that the light of the candles would some how frighten him and save her from his wrath. The idea that he would be cowed by a mere candle made him want to scoff. 

Pitch swept towards her and brought his face inches from her own. “Do I look afraid?” he asked with a vicious snarl at his lips. 

He grinned with vicious intent, happily soaking in the fear that now radiated from her skin. Then she surprised him again when she looked straight into his eyes, her expression of horror melting away as she seemed to fall into a trance. 

There was tinge of intrigue buried beneath his shock when he beheld the bewitchment in her ocean blue eyes. The way she stared at him as if he were the sun had Pitch debating on the sanity of this little girl. That had to be one of the most bizarre reactions he had ever received. 

He departed once more when her father along with a handful of guards invaded the room, straying long enough to find how startled she was by the fact that only she could see him.

The third time he came to her room was by far the most eventful. In the beginning, her horror had been palpable, and he fed on it without reserve, doing all in his power to pull more from within her. Though before his hunger was even close to sated, her fear shifted to righteous indignation, and then to genuine curiosity.

Irritation ticked at his mind, causing his lip to curl in distaste. He realized too late that she may be becoming too familiar with him when she dipped into a dainty curtsy and introduced herself as if she were at a ball. 

“I’m Princess Anna of Arendelle,” she said in a voice that was so sickly sweet that Pitch nearly cringed. 

Their exchange continued as Pitch became increasingly annoyed by her brazen attitude and her childish attempts to befriend him. He once again used the shadows as a means to intimidate her and place the fear of him back in her heart. He was pleased with the way she flinched when he threatened to eat her skin, an outcome she was unusually afraid of for reasons unknown to him. 

Then, out of nowhere, she made the assumption that his threats were empty, that she had no reason to fear him. 

Did this little brat think of him as some weak hearted noble she could charm or shame into obeying her? His anger flared within him like a roaring fire being stoked by a particularly pesky stick. Hot pulsing rage raced through his veins and pushed him to use all his energy to put her back in her place, rightfully terrified of him and only him. 

He used the shadows to restrain her as they wrapped around her ankles like tentacles and manipulated the darkness to blind her. Pitch could sense her fear coming alive once more, though she put in a good effort to suppress it. Her heart fluttered like the winds of a hummingbird, but to his surprise she managed to even her breathing and stand her ground. Anna stared up at him with a look that was far too serious for her youthful face, hands planted firmly on her hips. 

“Do I look afraid?” she asked in response to his previous taunt, echoing his words from the night before. 

Pitch was frozen in place, quietly astonished by the wild blaze lighting up her eyes in a way that was almost unnatural. This little girl had more nerve than most of the Guardians on a good day. 

With that thought, Pitch couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from deep within his chest. He knew he should have been furious at her stubborn insolence, but he found his anger being overtaken by his mirth. The fact that this princess of five years old thought of herself as a challenge to him was one of the most hysterical things he had experienced in the last century. 

Anna had no magic like her sister, and she had no means to even hurt him nor protect herself from him. What threat could she possibly pose to the king of nightmares? He would admit she was a bit more resilient to his tactics than he expected, but no one was without fear and the boogeyman would find hers, as he always did. He would find the best way to smash through her bravado, to snuff out that flare within her and reduce her to a trembling frightful wreck.

It would be dangerous to linger around this kingdom for much longer and risk alerting the Guardians of his presence there. It was perilous enough being so close to the north, in a place where tendrils of golden sand seemed to extend to every house.

However, Pitch promised himself and the young princess that he would meet her again. Before she had merely been an outlet for his fury, and then she had been a great source of nourishment when he discovered her belief in him. Now, with her direct challenge to him, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, it was in his best interest to return to Arendelle once in a while and keep an eye on the unstable future queen. Her power would overwhelm and destroy her someday, Pitch could see that from her very fragile attempt at suppression and containment. She was a porcelain doll, just waiting for the slightest nudge so she would fall and shatter. And when she finally broke, an explosion of terror would soon follow. Perhaps she would infect her entire kingdom with her curse, plunging them into an endless winter until they all perished in snow and ice. Pitch would like to be there when it happened, and feed on the fear of the citizens along with their hatred when they chose to hunt the ice witch down. 

In the mean time, the youngest princess had been entertaining enough to serve as a distraction. He was looking forward to measuring the extent of her fearlessness and then watching her pretension of bravery crumble like ancient tomb stones. He could feel the dark anticipation humming beneath his skin as a wolfish grin stretched at his lips; tormenting Princess Anna would be amusing if nothing else.


	5. The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; l have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” Sarah Williams, The Old Astronomer to His Pupil

Three weeks had passed before Anna encountered the Busemann again. During that time the days seemed to drag on especially slowly. Anna focused during her lessons, finished her assignments as soon as she could, and was left to wallow in boredom for the rest of the day. After being banned from the library for a month, she was forced to find entertainment elsewhere. Most days she would wander around the castle, running through the empty ballrooms, sliding down the halls in her socks, and playing pretend in front of the paintings. Despite coming to knock on her door almost every day, Elsa still refused to emerge from her room and play with her. The snow in the courtyard outside remained untouched. 

Anna didn’t bring up the Busemann to anyone after the third night he appeared to her, afraid of being reprimanded for believing in Vendel’s stories. Her father seemed much more at ease now that she didn’t speak of monsters in her room anymore, and Anna was fine with calming his nerves through her silence. Though, she still wouldn’t second guess the appearance of Pitch in her life, knowing for a fact that he had been real. Each night she would stay awake for hours, anticipating the return of the king of nightmares and each night he failed to make an appearance. She wasn’t sure whether she should be relieved by this or not. 

On one had she supposed this was a good thing. The man named Pitch Black had done nothing but torment her for three days straight, not to mention he was really rude. And even though she professed herself to be unafraid of him, she still didn’t know what Pitch was truly capable of. Perhaps he really would eat her skin if given the chance, or perhaps he would do much worse. 

On the other hand she had so many questions. She couldn’t quite grasp who or what Pitch was, why he was so intent on scaring her, or where he came from. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, but Anna had the distinct feeling he was very old, maybe even older than Vendel. Though she wasn’t really sure. In truth, she wanted to know so much more about the Busemann. The questions she had for him swirled around in her mind each night that she stayed awake waiting for him to return. 

The night he came back, Anna had been sitting on the seat beside her window. Her attention was focused on the wave of bright colours that shifted through the clusters of stars. Her mother had called them the northern lights, and Anna thought they were the most magical thing in the world. They made the sky look alive in a way that the sun could not, moving like long ribbons over her head and extending to a place beyond the mountains. 

The young princess had been so enraptured by the lights flowing like rivers through the starry sky, that she hadn’t noticed the shadows darken. A great presence fell on the room and the air became inexplicably thicker. Anna didn’t pay any attention, not even as the gremlin like creatures crawled out from the darkness and crept along the floor like insects. 

A hand that was slick with and unknown substance and cool as ice, wrapped it’s long spindly fingers around her ankle and sharply yanked her from her perch on the window seat. 

Anna screamed and fell to the floor with a thunk, wincing as the back of her scull smacked painfully on the edge of her seat. It took her a moment to shake away the flurry of spots that spun across her vision and finally see the gathering of shadowy creatures that slinked from the darkness like a nest of spiders being freed from an egg sack. 

Anna took in a fretful gasp for air and tried to scramble away from the things that were quickly advancing upon her. She couldn’t get far, for the one with a hand still on her ankle pulled at her again. She fell flat on her back so fast that the air was knocked out of her lungs. The deep ache that compressed her spine prevented her from sitting up and trying to get away again. The creatures took advantage of her vulnerability and latched onto her arms and legs. Anna’s heart rate shot up when she realized they were dragging her towards the darkness and out of the light of the stars. 

“Let go!” she shrieked, thrashing about on the floor in spite of the pain that pulsed in her back. “Let go of me! Please!”

Anna screamed and cried, trying to kick her legs and shove these monsters away from her. Her movements were too frantic and uncoordinated to do any real damage to them. Her panic made it impossible for her to think about anything other than her pounding heart and the things that continued to yank at her like she was their doll. She didn’t understand what they were, why they were doing this to her, or what they would do to her once they took her into the shadows. 

Anna lifted her head, tears clouding her vision as she finally got a good look at the monsters that were jerking her across the floor. Their appearance reminded her of splotches of ink. They were all an ebony black with no discernible features, as if they had been drowned in black paint. Their proportions were unnatural and malformed, with heads that were much too large and limbs that were terribly long and skinny. These ghoulish bodies lurched and jerked as they struggled to keep holding her. They made strange gurgling sounds and inhuman clicks, like they were talking to each other in a language she didn’t understand. 

The things didn’t have any eyes. There were only caved in sockets filled with an eerie glow. When Anna spotted the swirls of gold and silver that swam within those hollow eyes, something in her mind clicked into place. She stopped squirming and the creatures in turn froze, confused by her sudden lack of struggling. Her lips skewered as her eyes blazed with searing ferocity. Only one creature restrained her right arm, so she summoned all her strength and whipped her arm forward so the gremlin was flung into the air. A sharp screech echoed off the walls as it flew through the air and landed with a thud on the other side of the room.

Anna flailed her free arm wildly and grabbed the first thing within reach, which happened to be the finely stitched doll that had been made to look like her sister. The doll served as a decent weapon, especially when she used it to repeatedly whack at the little beasts trying to hold her down. 

“I. Said. Let. Me. Go!” Each word was punctuated by the sharp thwack as she continued to violently beat the creatures off of her. 

They hissed in retaliation, skittering away when she wouldn’t relent in her attack. They released her legs and arm as she smacked them with the doll and all her strength. Some made an attempt to grab hold of her again, but her movements became so vicious that they were forced to retreat back into the shadows. 

When Anna was completely free and the demon things were too far away to stop her, she ran back towards her window. The stars and northern lights entrenched her in a heavenly glow. Anna panted in exhaustion when the epinephrine finally wore off and her shoulders heaved with the effort of taking in more air. Her throat was rough and dry when her heartbeat finally settled to a normal pace.

She could spot the slightest of shifts in the darkness as creatures slithered about her room. They had some aversion to the light, and Anna felt infinitely safer with the brightness of the stars bathing her back. She kept close watch on the shadow creatures as they all jerked themselves towards the same spot. 

The outline of tall and slender figure stood in the darkness near her bed, and Anna’s lips twisted into a grimace when she saw him. The creatures seemed to meld into the shadowy cloak that he wore, as if they had always been part of it and were returning to their natural place. 

Anna felt a sliver of indignation when she saw him standing there. After she had seen the strange glow in the eyes of the creatures, a mix gold and silver she recalled seeing three weeks ago in the eyes of the Busemann, she had an inkling that he was responsible. That he had sent these things after her for some reason. The realization had given her enough of a clear head to start fighting. 

Only once the creatures had all merged into his robe did Pitch finally step from the shadows. His eyes were narrowed on Anna as he moved towards her safe haven in the light. Even under the starlight and glow of the aurora borealis, he still looked like a wasted corpse. His presence seemed to flush away the bright colours that surrounded him, turning his world into one of muted greys. 

“Is violence your only response to a threat?” he inquired with a sneer, spitefully lifting his long chin. “This country will be reduced to ashes if you ever ascend to the throne.”

Anna felt herself bristle at the insult, though she didn’t really understand what Pitch meant. Anna wasn’t going to be queen, Elsa was. And Anna wouldn’t ever let anything bad happen to her kingdom. With no good response to his comment, Anna simply straightened her back and stared Pitch down with an accusing glare.

“You sent them to try and scare me!” she practically shouted while crossing her arms in front of her chest. She pursed her lips and tried to give him the most menacing glare she could muster, though he didn’t seem to be affected by it.

Pitch only shrugged in response to her accusation, but there was a cruel glint in his eyes and the hint of a self satisfied smile at the corner of his mouth. The more upset she was, the more he seemed to enjoy himself. That was probably why he sent those monsters to attack her in the first place.

“Well, it didn’t work,” Anna declared. She proudly puffed out her chest and stuck her chin high in the air. “I wasn’t scared and I beat them up.”

Pitch’s smile faded into a bitter scowl. “I saw,” he hissed, and the way he glowered at Anna made her body become rigid. Even with her newfound confidence, the harshness in his eyes and the intensity of his rage was unsettling to her. There was a passion in Pitch that frightened her. “My fearlings won’t be so forgiving, should they encounter you again. They can be quite ruthless if I am not their to restrain them. So it would be best to tread lightly princess.”

Pitch gave her a hollow smirk and Anna could see the echoes of fury in his gleaming eyes. She felt herself shrink slightly beneath his gaze as his threat rung through the cold air. 

“Fearlings?” Anna inquired, keeping her voice as steady as possible while she absently rubbed the spot on her arm where she had been grabbed. She was still quite shaken by the encounter, and the foreboding statement Pitch made caused her bravery to shrivel significantly. Though, a part of her still beamed with pride at her ability to fight the creatures off. 

“That’s what they’re called,” Pitch replied in a lecturing tone. There was an underlying sinister shift in his voice as he continued and his smirk sharpened, reminding Anna of a dagger glinting in the dark. It made him seem so much more dangerous. “I am their master.”

Anna tilted her head, squinting as she considered what he said. An image popped into her mind, one she had found in an old story book that Elsa had read to her. There had been an evil goblin king, who was illustrated with a wicked smile in every picture. He had an army of creepy little goblins that he commanded to go sabotage the heroine’s quest. They weren’t very good minions, always fighting each other and messing up, but they were all the goblin king had. She could remember the funny impressions Elsa had made whenever she read the parts of the goblins, making her voice scratchy and high pitched or low and slow in order to make Anna laugh. For a moment, the redhead’s chest caved inwards. Thinking about the closeness she had once shared with her sister still filled her with sorrow and regret.

She pushed the feeling deep down into her gut with a bright smile. It was easiest for her to smile and ignore the tiny disappointments that arose with those memories. 

“So, are they like your royal guards?” Anna asked quickly, her voice cheery as she forced her mind to think about something other than Elsa. She supposed the best thing to do would be focus on the various questions that had been pounding around in her head for the past three weeks. She had so many on the fringe of her mind, but she decided on the first words that made it to her lips. 

There was a hefty silence that fell after Anna asked her question. The Busemann’s smile fell, showing that he was obviously perturbed by her now pleasant disposition. The golden silver eyes that shimmered so brightly in the night pierced straight through her, almost as if they were analyzing her thoughts and emotions. As the silence extended and the Nightmare King continued to glare at her, Anna began to shift awkwardly from foot to foot. 

Quickly becoming tired of standing there and waiting for the dark figure to speak, Anna hoisted herself back onto the window seat and sat cross legged with her back to the window. She rested her elbows on her knees and leaned forward to rest her cheeks on her palms. Anna was sure the way she was squishing her cheeks and staring Pitch down with wide curious eyes made her look pretty silly to him, but she didn’t care. If he was going to stare at her silently to try and unnerve her than she would do the exact same thing. However, the princess could have sworn she saw the beginnings of a smile on his face, just for a split second. 

Anna was so immersed in what she considered a staring contest, that she was startled when the Busemann began to speak again. 

“I suppose so,” he answered after the long and deliberate pause. With a nonchalant shrug he gracefully clasped his hands behind his back. 

“How come Papa couldn’t see you?” Anna asked, the words tumbling out of her mouth once her first question was answered. She wanted ask as many of her questions as she could, while he was still in a more friendly mood.

Pitch stared back at her with a cold indifference, raising one brow to indicate that she should elaborate. 

“The second night that I saw you, and then Papa came into my room,” Anna explained, her mouth moving rather quickly in an effort to keep his interest. “He looked right at you, and I could see you but he couldn’t.”

“Your father didn’t believe I was there,” Pitch replied with a rough tension in his voice. Golden eyes became sharp and frigid, looking deadly enough to kill, as he answered her question, staring at a space above her head. It was as if the subject enraged him. “Belief is a very powerful thing, princess. People are less willing to see something if they don’t think it exists.”

Anna was startled by this answer, her eyes going wide when she pondered what he meant. She had thought that somehow he could make himself invisible to people if he didn’t want them to see him. But in truth, even if he wanted to be seen and heard, he wouldn’t be if the person didn’t believe he existed. Something about that made her sad. Nobody in the castle believed that the Busemann existed, nobody but her. So that meant no one else could see him, ignoring him if he passed and not hearing him if he spoke.

“So if I didn’t believe in you,” Anna wondered aloud, scrunching her nose up in thought. “Then I wouldn’t be able to see you either.”

Pitch froze in his place and his expression turned intensely livid when he heard her words. The shadows on his face became harsher and more pronounced, causing his irises to shine like flickering flames. The hostility in his eyes had Anna shuffling backwards until her back was directly against the window. 

At his response, or rather lack there of, Anna was quick to amend her previous statement. “I’m not going to stop believing in you,” she chirped, flashing a brilliant smile to calm his animosity. “I already know you exist, so I can see you just fine.”

Pitch was clearly taken aback by that declaration, his eyes growing wide and his lips parting just slightly. The surprise that had been etched across his ash grey features quickly flipped to a derisive sneer. 

“Well, that’s very comforting,” he said while giving her a sarcastic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stepped towards her perch, bringing the shadows with him as he moved. The darkness seemed to flood her room, drowning out the light from her window. “Though, I’m sure you’d prefer not to see me, if your mind would allow you to forget. To remove the monster that terrorizes you and keeps you up at night.”

Pitch said these words with a biting tone, and his lips curled into a snarl. Despite his sardonic expression, for a moment Anna could only see the desolation and emptiness in the shine of his eyes. The look was replaced with scorn as soon as she spotted it, but she knew it had been there. It was like all the sadness in the world was contained in those pools of silver and gold. 

‘It must hurt his feelings when people don’t see him,’ Anna thought with a frown. 

She thought of Elsa’s closed door and her harsh refusal to come talk to her. She thought of her parents’ empty words and smiles that left their eyes dead whenever Anna inquired why Elsa continued to ignore her. She thought of the limited staff that remained in the castle; those who kept her at a distance because of her station and those who regarded her with distain because of her age and lack of maturity. 

‘It hurts my feelings too.’

Anna sat up and vehemently shook her head to contradict his claim and clear her thoughts. “No,” she denied quickly. “I mean, I don’t like it when you try to scare me like that, ‘cuz it’s not very nice. But I don’t mind seeing you.” Anna paused and glanced down at her hands which she began to absently fiddle with. “And it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, the sky’s awake at night, so I’m awake too.”

She looked up with a smile on her lips that was fragile but full of youthful optimism and brilliant enough to match the blinding sparkle of the stars. She thought that her reassurance and playful remark would cause the tension within him to subside. She thought he might smile just a bit, without a cutting edge or insincerity. 

She didn’t think his face would shift from cynical to furious, or that he would bare his teeth like he was just resisting the urge to attack her. Anna nearly gasped out loud when she saw the severity of his outrage. She recoiled as Pitch stalked towards her and the shadows followed at the end of his robe. They washed over her like a tidal wave, blotting out the aurora and the stars. Darkness curled around her in a strangling embrace, trapping her where she sat and forcing her to stare up into the Busemann’s hateful eyes. They were still so beautiful in their colour, but the anger that burned within them cause her to shrivel under his glare. 

“I am not here for your entertainment,” Pitch spat and the venom dripped from his tongue. He stood tall above her with his ashen skin and luminous eyes being the only things that were visible in the blackness of the night. “I am not here to appease your need for companionship nor am I here to indulge your prattle.”

“But I-“

Her mouth was quickly clamped shut. Pitch’s hand grasped her chin in a hold that wasn’t painful, but she could feel him draining away her warmth with the contact of his skin. His intense eyes bored straight through her and staring into them shook her to the core. 

“I am the Boogeyman,” he declared with a threatening aura surrounding him. “And you will fear me.”

Anna blinked and would have tilted her head in confusion were it not for the grip he still had on her chin. 

“I thought you were the Busemann,” she whispered, more to herself then the intimidating man before her. “Also what’s a boogeyman?”

“They’re the same thing,” Pitch growled through clenched teeth, clearly annoyed when her facial features changed from frightened to curious. 

“How many names do you have?”

Pitch didn’t answer her question. He silently fumed while staring her down before carelessly tossing her to the side. The princess shuddered violently when the Nightmare King released her and turned away with a final withering look. He vanished into the darkness without another word while the shadows that loomed over her disappeared with him. The room became lighter and the air became easier to breathe, as if his departure had lifted a terrible curse. 

Anna stared at the space where he once stood, curling herself up into a little ball. She hugged her knees as tightly as she could and wondered what she had done to upset him so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this Pitch is more based on the movie than the books mostly cause I haven’t actually read the books. I may have some of his backstory from the books, cause I do know the gist, but mostly just going off movie Pitch. I included the fearlings cause they’re cool and I figured he didn’t have the nightmares yet. The fearlings are less possessed children and more like extensions of himself. It takes a lot of energy for him to summon them so he can’t do it too often unless he’s built up his strength.


	6. Strange Being

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What a strange being you are,
> 
> God knows where I would be
> 
> If you hadn't found me,
> 
> sitting all alone in the dark”
> 
> dodie, Sick of Losing Soulmates

The morning that the month of banishment from the library finally ended, Anna was leaping out of bed and bounding down the hall like an energetic rabbit. She had been anxiously counting down the days until her punishment timed out and when the awaited day finally arrived she couldn’t contain her excitement. By the time she had burst through the doors she was already panting heavily. 

“Vendel!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, grinning to herself as she heard familiar grunting and uneven footsteps. 

Old Vendel hobbled around a corner with a deep frown on his lips that accentuated the wrinkles on his face. Somehow, his face became even sourer when he caught sight of Anna. 

The princess was rocking back and forth on her heels as she looked around the dusty library, biting her lip to stop herself from squealing. She never thought that being in the library again would fill her with such unbridled joy. Without Elsa’s company or her parents' attention she found herself getting very bored very fast. It was nice to have something to do. 

“Well, if it isn’t the little snitch,” Vendel said with a snide twitch of his crooked nose. 

Anna stopped bouncing on her toes, feeling her mood dampen a little bit. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble Vendel,” she said. She bashfully bit the inside of her cheek and shuffled her feet. 

“You should be,” Vendel accosted her, turning his chin up with a haughty humph. “All I was doing was trying to look out for your safety.”

Anna’s guilt melted and she crossed her arms at that statement, furrowing her brow and puffing her cheeks out in anger. “You were just trying to scare me,” she argued before turning her chin up to mimic Vendel’s snooty expression. “Papa said so.”

“His Majesty doesn’t believe in the Busemann,” the old man grumbled with a careless shrug. He limped over to his desk, picking up an old book from one of the piles. This book was thinner than the others and its spine was more brightly coloured. “But I do. I knew he would be coming after you. I was simply trying to prepare you for it.”

Anna’s jaw went slack in surprise, wondering if Vendel was telling the truth. She was hesitant to believe him. There was wickedness behind those thick spectacles and his sallow cheek twitched with the urge to smile. Though, he technically hadn’t been lying about the Busemann’s existence before. 

“You’ve seen him too?” Anna asked while hesitantly approaching the old man at his desk. 

“No,” Vendel murmured, only half paying attention to the princess as he idly flipped through his book. “He wouldn’t dare to come near me. He’s terrified of me.”

Anna’s brow furrowed and her lips pursed in confusion. The idea of Pitch being fearful of the old librarian didn’t sound right to her. She was beginning to suspect that Vendel was lying more often than not just to mess with her. 

“Why’s he scared of you?” Anna inquired, scrunching her face up in doubt as she tried to see through Vendel’s intentions. 

Vendel closed the book with a snap that echoed through the library. The slashed grin that split his face and the shadows of the morning sun made his withered face look especially terrifying. He crept towards her, hunching his back even more than usual. He reminded her of a troll that would skulk under a bridge within the pages of her storybooks. “Because when the Busemann goes to sleep, he checks under the bed for Vendel!”

The old librarian bared his teeth, showing off his pointed canines, and pretended to jump at the princess. He snickered at the way she flinched away from him and the stricken expression on her face. Anna, quickly realizing that he had been teasing her, balled her hands into tiny fists and puffed herself up with indignation. 

Upon seeing the angry flush of her cheeks and the way she silently fumed, Vendel gave an exasperated roll of his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, little snitch,” he sniped, waving the book he held as he ranted. “You should be grateful for my extensive generosity. Particularly after you brought the king’s fury down on my head.”

There was a heavy thunk when Vendel lightly smacked her on the head with his book. He shoved the novel into her arms and she scrambled to keep it in her grasp. She was thankful it wasn’t one of the heavier tomes found within the library. 

“Ow!” Anna whined, shifting the book into one arm so she could use her free hand to rub the sore spot on top of her head. Her eyes found the title of the book that he had forced on her, her eyes growing wide as she read it. “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” Anna slowly read the title out loud, carefully sounding out each word so she wouldn’t make a mistake. The words were short and simple to her inexperienced tongue, making it easier on her when she read them out. 

“It’s an old folktale,” Vendel grumbled, his sour apple face suddenly returning as he turned back to his beloved bookshelves. The time he was willing to spend in her company had seemed to reach its limit. “Since you’re far too sensitive for certain stories, I assumed you would be better suited to these flimsy fairytales.”

Anna traced her fingers along the spine the leather bound book, finding the texture much more worn and rough than the material of the other books within the library. She wondered how old the book was, who had read it so many times before her to mark it with such calluses. 

“Thank you, Vendel,” Anna said with a toothy grin so bright that it was nearly blinding. She clutched the little book to her chest, gratitude and joy flooding through her body, all the way down to her toes. She didn’t know the old man could be so kind, that he had noticed her love of fairytales.

Vendel grunted in response, wobbling back to the depths of the library. Anna smiled at his impolite response, wistfully wandering about the outer edges of the room to see if there were any other books that might catch her eye. She would never expect any gallantry from the foul-tempered old man. It was uncharacteristically kind of him to select a book that he thought she would enjoy. He was always so angry with her and he frightened her badly with his story of the Busemann. Perhaps, beneath his grouchy exterior, he had a softer and sweeter centre. Anna caressed the title of her new book with a blithe grin on her face. She was hoping this story would be more to her taste than the tales of the Busemann. 

Anna suddenly stopped in her tracks as a memory surfaced in her thoughts. She whipped back around before the old librarian could retreat further behind the shelves. 

“Vendel!” she called, causing him to turn and regard her with annoyance. “What is the Boogeyman?”

A strange look that Anna couldn’t quite interpret settled on Vendel’s features. 

“Where did you hear that name?” his voice was lower, nearly a whisper, and a bit more gravely. 

The princess was hesitant to explain the extent of her interactions with the Busemann. Especially since she was uncertain if Vendel even believed in him or not. It seemed whenever she brought up the Busemann around grown-ups, she usually received skepticism or she got in trouble. So Anna simply shrugged at his question. This caused the librarian to stare at her intently, reading her as if she were one of his books. Eventually, his look of skepticism shifted to a caustic glare. 

“It’s another name for the Busemann,” he explained with a tired sigh. He glanced upwards for a moment, combing his long fingers through his beard in thought. “I believe it’s what they call him in America.”

“America?!” Anna gawked, and her exclamation rang through the room as the church bells would ring through the morning. 

“Yes,” Vendel said in a harsh whisper. There was a flash of concern behind his spectacles as her voice echoed off the walls as if he believed the noise would cause the books to fall from their shelves. When the sound settled, Anna offered an apologetic smile to combat the look of anger that contorted his face. “Now for goodness sake, stop shouting in my library. Your shrill voice will make me deaf.”

Old Vendel griped to himself much more loudly as he stumbled back to his place within the maze of bookcases. Anna tiptoed around the room, attempting to be extra silent in order to avoid the elder’s wrath. She absently skimmed over the spines of the books; her attention was truly set on contemplating the meaning of the librarian's previous statement. The Busemann was called the Boogeyman in the young nation of America, which meant he had been there as well. Anna had only briefly heard of the place across the ocean since she had never left her own kingdom, though the thought of actually travelling so far was too astounding to comprehend. She wondered where else Pitch had been, what sort of things he had seen or people he had met in those far away lands. Anna supposed she would have to ask him. 

The Nightmare King had yet to return to her since that night he had become cross with her. Anna still didn’t understand why he was so furious when she tried to show him kindness. It wasn’t something people should get mad about. However, despite Pitch’s persistent enmity, Anna decided that she would continue to try being nice. It might inspire him to respond with kindness in turn. That would certainly make it easier to get answers from him. 

With that final thought on the matter, Anna left the library, content with the book she had already received. She was ready to lose herself in a story, and ignore all thoughts of the Busemann for the remainder of the day. 

XXX

Another two weeks went by without any sight of Pitch. It was when he visited Anna for the fifth time that she learned the reason why he called himself the Nightmare King. She had been in a deep slumber before she was woken abruptly, a hoarse scream on her lips. Sweat caked her face and had a few strands of strawberry blonde hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. She sat in bed, desperately pressing down on her chest in an effort to settle her rapidly beating heart. Her shallow breathing slowly got deeper as she regained her bearings and came back to reality.

She had been having a pleasant dream; she was sitting with two reindeer, debating on what tea they should drink based on what would pair best with their cookies. But the dream had morphed into a horrible nightmare when a giant black panther pounced in from seemingly nowhere and proceeded to maul her two reindeer friends. Anna had been horrified by the violent scene, but it was nothing compared to the dread and terror that raced through her when the predator turned its attention towards her. Her fear escalated when the thing gave chase and she was forced to run through the thick and dark forest. When her dream had shifted to a nightmare, the natural light in the woods had vanished, turning the atmosphere from enchanting and tranquil to haunting and sinister. Barren tree branches extended towards her like claws as she ran, entangling with her hair and scratching at her scalp. The sound of the panther's growls and pounding steps becoming louder as it got closer, quickly overcoming her own speed. It was an almost relief when she startled herself awake and came to the realization that it had only been a nightmare.

Within seconds of waking up and quelling her terror, Anna noticed the shadowy silhouette. Pitch stood in the same place he had been when she had first seen him over a month ago. Finding his lanky form within the shadows, his golden eyes standing in sharp contrast to the blackness, caused the memory of the panther from her nightmare to flash across her vision. The thing had bright golden eyes tinged with a silver outline. 

Anna pressed her lips into a thin line and glared at him with what she hoped was a frightening look. She wished she could fill him with half of the terror that he could elicit from her. With her certainty that he had caused her gruesome nightmare, the princess didn’t even think before grasping one of her pillows and chucking it at the Busemann. The pillow would have hit his chest had he not glided to the side half a second earlier. 

Pitch glanced down at where the pillow lay with an exasperated expression before turning his stare towards her. “Stop doing that.”

“You stop trying to scare me,” she countered, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she sat up in her bed. She pouted to show her displeasure and she watched as a conceited smirk curled at Pitch’s lips.

“Oh,” he murmured, and it still surprised Anna how such a sinister man had such a soft and alluring voice. “But what else am I to do for amusement around here. Unless you would prefer that I would torture your sister instead.”

Anna’s entire body seized in horror and her chest rose with a gasp when he mentioned her sister. “You know about Elsa?”

Pitch rolled his eyes in response to her question. “She does live in this castle as well,” he said with a sarcastic droll. “It would be difficult for me to remain completely ignorant of her existence.”

Anna remained silent, wondering if Elsa had been visited by the Busemann as well. Even if Pitch did go to torment her, Anna doubted her sister would have been able to see him. Elsa had insisted that the Busemann wasn’t real when Anna had confided in her after that first night. 

“Elsa doesn’t believe in you,” Anna declared, sitting up on her knees and boldly puffing out her chest. “And she’s not afraid of anything, so you couldn’t scare her anyway.”

Pitch barked out a harsh laugh, causing Anna to jump in surprise. She frowned at his response, trying to find what could be interpreted as humorous from her previous statement. He looked down on her with a wide grin and a malevolent gleam in his eyes. 

“Your sister may not think I’m real,” he said, amusement on the edge of his voice. “But she is the farthest thing from fearless.”

That statement caused Anna’s hackles to rise. Even though Elsa hadn’t been talking to her or playing with her as of late, Anna wouldn’t stand for anyone insulting her. Her cheeks flamed and her eyes narrowed on Pitch. “That’s not true!” she yelled in protest. “Elsa’s brave and smart and she’s gonna be Queen one day.”

After her outburst, Anna expected Pitch to become angry with her, focusing all his cold fury upon her in response to her insolence. Adults would always get cross if she lost her temper. Instead, Pitch offered her an indulgent smile with just a hint of condescension within his bright eyes. He took slow and graceful steps towards her and his calm demeanour was much more unsettling than his enraged one. 

“You admire her, don’t you?” Pitch said, tilting his head in thought as he regarded her. “It’s a pity she would prefer to ignore your existence.” 

That statement, delivered with such casual cruelty, caused a sharp and painful crack to manifest within Anna’s little chest. Her fierce expression crumpled in momentary agony as she thought of Elsa’s closed door, of her cold refusal to come out an play. In spite of how the simple truth had hurt her, Anna was quick to recover. She pushed the sadness as far down as it could go and regained her fearlessness when she stared the Busemann down.

“You’re not very nice,” she said in a severe tone as if this was the greatest sin one could commit. 

Pitch came up in front of her bed with an enigmatic smile playing on his lips, shrugging indifferently at her serious words. “I don’t try to be.”

“You should,” Anna lectured. “Mamma says you’re s‘posed be nice to people if you want them to be nice back.”

“Fortunately, I don’t live by the expectations of your mother,” Pitch answered, pointedly rolling his eyes at her statement. 

Anna crossed her arms in front of her chest, pouting in frustration at Pitch’s insistent rudeness. She wasn’t sure why he kept coming to torment her in the night. His presence was sporadic, not nearly as constant as it had been in the beginning, but he still kept coming back. She couldn’t understand why he would even want to return after he got so angry with her and she continued to thwart his attempts to frighten her. Why her? What did he want? Was it only about scaring her? Was there even a chance that he would be kind to her?

She glanced around, searching within her mind for a way to sway the Busemann, and her gaze wandered to the nightstand. She saw the leather bound book that she had yet to return to the library. She had been enraptured by the story a girl that must marry a mean bear who was really a handsome prince. Anna loved how the girl journeyed to far off lands to rescue the prince, saving him before he was forced to marry an ugly troll.

Anna pursed her lips in thought when she thought of the old librarian that gave her that story. Vendel had been mean to her for as long as she could remember, always shushing her when she was too loud and making her feel stupid when he scolded her for putting books in the wrong place. And yet, he was still kind enough to give her a fairytale that he knew she would enjoy. 

Perhaps Pitch was similar to Old Vendel and the bear from the story. Perhaps he was mean on the outside while possessing hidden sweetness deep within. Perhaps with unyielding kindness in the face of his cruelty, Anna could drag the sweet centre to the surface. At the very least, he would become so frustrated with her, that he would leave her alone. The thought caused a glowing smile to form on her face. 

“Y’know what? I don’t think you’re really that mean,” Anna stated, lightly bouncing as she sat on her bed. “I think you’re like Vendel. You try to scare me and get angry with me, but I bet you can be nice too. Just like how Vendel was nice when he gave me this book.”

Pitch looked bewildered and Anna realized that he probably didn’t know what she had been talking about. 

“Oh, Vendel is this really really really really really old librarian,” Anna explained. “He says you’re scared of him, that you check under the bed to make sure he’s not there. But I think he was just teasing when he said that.” Anna paused, tilting her head as she regarded Pitch curiously. “Are you scared of him?”

Pitch’s expression hardened into a face of impassivity. “No,” he answered caustically, and something in his tone made Anna feel silly for even asking. “I am not afraid of your librarian.”

Anna shifted on her bed, so she now sat on her knees. An awkward tension settled over the room as Pitch glared in her direction in an attempt to cause her disconcertion, and Anna was desperate to fill the void that stretched between them. She reached out into her memories and recalled her conversation with Vendel. That memory pushed the next words out of her mouth. “Have you been to America?”

Again, Pitch allowed his surprise to filter into his features. It seemed that even though she couldn’t intimidate him as he could her, she was at least able to startle him with her questions. “Why on earth would you ask such a thing?” he asked, not even bothering to conceal his confusion. 

“Well, you said you were the Boogeyman,” Anna answered, absently fiddling with the trim of her nightgown to mask her unease. “And Vendel says that the Boogeyman is like the Busemann in America. So I was wondering if you’ve been there.”

Pitch scoffed at her as if she shouldn’t have even been curious about such things. As if the answer should have been obvious. “Of course I’ve been there.”

Despite his dismissiveness, Anna’s eyes shimmered with wonder at his affirmation. The thought of even knowing someone that had travelled so far was incredible to her. “Wow,” she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her chest. 

“The America’s are undeserving of awe,” Pitch stated with a slight sneer at his lip and a disinterested shrug. “I have been too far more impressive places.”

“Really? I’ve never left Arendelle,” Anna replied, glancing out the window, beyond the kingdom she had always known and towards the distant ocean. “What kinda places have you been to?”

Pitch stared blankly at her for a moment, as silent and as still as the dead. Slowly, as if something foul and odorous had begun to slither through the air, his eyes narrowed into slits. Anna’s curiosity shrivelled underneath his gaze. However, before even a spike of fear could register in her consciousness, he turned on his heel towards the darkness. 

“Hey!” she called to him, causing Pitch to pause in his step. “Where are you going?”

He glanced over his shoulder, casting her with a frigid glare. “I have better things to do with my time than entertain your whimsy.”

“Oh,” Anna mumbled, somewhat dejected by his dismissal. However, these days, the feeling of being dismissed was a common occurrence for her. It seemed like a lot of people had better things to do than spend time with her. “Okay. Bye.”

He didn’t even look back at her as he vanished into the shadows yet again. His disappearance had been sudden and his final words had been curt. But he hadn’t been menacing in his departure as he had been before nor had he left her trembling in fear in his wake. At the very least, that was an improvement in Anna’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Sorry for the delay guys. My workload at school was unusually high last semester and I used the Christmas vacation to decompress. Please review! :)


End file.
